The Corn Party
by Lizxphile
Summary: Fowley is made to go to a party in hicksville USA with CSM, and things get ugly when another man and some cornpokers come into the picture.


The Corn Party  
by Liz S. (sporkfowley@aol.com)  
Category: Fowlfic, humor  
Rating: PG-13; language, gore and the slightest bit of   
sexual material  
Archive: Go right ahead, just drop me a line with where   
it's going  
Summary: Fowley is made to go to a party in hicksville   
USA with CSM, and things get ugly when another man and   
some cornpokers come into the picture.  
  
  
********************  
The Corn Party  
1/1  
********************  
  
  
Somewhere in Iowa  
August 4th, 5:45 pm.  
  
The solitary farm house rose up out of the   
neverending fields of corn like an incredibly far-off   
beacon of hope in a storm. Diana Fowley breathed a   
sigh of relief and turned to the driver of the black   
sedan she was in.  
  
"Finally! Is that it? It better be!"  
  
The driver took one last drag from the diminished   
Morley in his hand and crushed it in the car's ashtray.   
"Yes, it is. Patience, Diana - we're almost there."  
  
Fowley sighed again and sat back in her seat.   
This little trip to the farmlands of the Midwest was not   
her idea of fun, but her employer had ordered that she   
accompany him on this unusual visit.  
  
"Tell me why we're doing this again?" she asked   
impatiently. CSM regarded her with an icy stare and lit   
up another Morley.  
  
"We're here to keep an eye on this gathering.   
The host family consists of undercover operatives working   
in colinisation; they posses many classified documents   
pertaining to the project, my job is simply to protect   
this sensitive information."  
  
"What 'gathering' are you referring to? And why   
do I have to be a part of this?" Fowley whined.  
  
"They're having a type of party, called a corn   
party by farmers. It's really a very outdated and pointless   
ritual, where people gather together and eat corn   
related products and shuck corn together... the family   
wants to look normal and conform to the standards of   
farming, so they decided to throw this party." CSM's   
face broke into a small smile, the first Fowley had seen   
all day. "And you're with me simply because I craved   
companionship."  
  
The creepy way he was looking at her made Fowley   
feel ill, and she turned towards the window, wondering   
exactly what he meant by 'companionship'. She attempted   
to amuse herself by staring at the fields and trying to   
count the rows of corn as they went by, but it fast lost   
it's novelty, and she nodded off to sleep.  
  
Around half an hour later, CSM pulled into the   
driveway of the farmhouse and turned the car off. He   
turned to the sleeping Fowley and smiled as he touched   
her arm gently.  
  
"Hm?" Fowley awoke with a start and looked   
around. "Are we there?"  
  
CSM patted her leg affectionatley, at which Fowley   
frowned and pulled away. "Yes, this is it. Party starts   
in 15 minutes, we can go in and freshen up, if you want."   
He got out of the car and, lighting up yet another Morley,   
proceeded to the porch to knock on the door; Fowley groggily   
stumbled out of the car and joined him.  
  
A small girl with dark hair and blue eyes answered   
the door. CSM gave her a smile of recognition, but she   
didn't seem to notice.  
  
"Are you here for the party?" she inquired, looking   
at them with big eyes and appearing slightly frightened   
upon seeing Fowley.  
  
"Yes we are, could we see your parents please?"   
CSM asked. The little girl nodded and opened the door   
for them to step inside. They did so, and the girl   
scampered off to find her parents.  
  
Fowley frowned. "Why did that girl look so   
familiar?..."  
  
CSM ignored her question and looked around the   
house they had entered. "Nice place they've made for   
themselves," he commented, taking in the traditionally   
decorated farmhouse. Fowley looked around and jumped   
slightly at the sight of a scarecrow propped up by the   
door. *They definitely overdid it* she thought to   
herself, as the little girl returned with her father.  
  
"Here's daddy!" The girl took off again and   
left her father standing in front of CSM and Fowley with   
a frightened look on his face.  
  
"Wha... wha - what can I do for you?" he stuttered,   
trying to look nonchalant to conceal his evident anxiety.  
  
"We're simply here to keep an eye on things at   
the party, Warren, calm down. Since you're inviting   
strangers into your house, we thought it appropriate to   
be here to make sure nothing goes wrong and no sensitive   
material gets out in the open. You do understand, of   
course?"  
  
Warren's face relaxed somewhat and he gave CSM a   
wan smile. "Oh... oh, wonderful sir, that's fine! Um -   
follow me, everyone's in the barn."  
  
He led CSM and Fowley through the house and out   
into a large barn, where about 20 people were milling   
about, eating corn related foods and talking amongst   
themselves. They were all dressed similarly in denim   
and flannel, and observed the newcomers' suits with   
amazement and in some cases, scorn.  
  
"Why do I feel like we're overdressed for the   
occassion?" Fowley whispered as they looked around at   
everyone.  
  
"We do stand out a little, but pay no attention   
to it," CSM replied. He and Fowley walked with Warren   
through the throng of people to a long table with chairs   
set up all around it; Warren gestured for them to be   
seated, then he stood up on one of the chairs.  
  
"If I could have everyone's attention..." (The   
crowd fell silent.) "...we're going to begin now, so if   
everyone would have a seat..."  
  
The people all shuffled to the table and sat   
down while Warren rushed into the house to help his wife   
bring out the food. They brought out cornbread, corn   
muffins, big bowls of poppin' corn, cooked ears of corn,   
even candy corn, and much more. Fowley glanced sideways   
at CSM and leaned towards him.  
  
"We don't have to, um... eat all of this, do we?   
I don't much care for corn." Then she spotted the   
cornbread. "Well, the bread I can deal with."  
  
"Just have enough to make it look like you are   
enjoying it," CSM replied, touching her knee under the   
table with a slightly cheesily out-of-character smile.   
Fowley again jumped and pulled away, revolted by his   
actions, and turned her attention to the cornbread.  
  
As she did so, CSM, puzzled by her digust, took   
a cooked ear of corn and 2 corn-shaped pokers to hold   
the ear with. Lost in his thoughts, he carelessly   
dropped one of the pokers on the floor and reached down   
to retrieve it. As he brought it back up to the table,   
he accidently poked Fowley in the arm with it.  
  
"OWWWW!" Fowley clapped her hand over her mouth   
to keep from yelling outloud again and grabbed her arm.   
  
"Watch it!" she whispered fiercly to CSM, looking   
at the 2 small drops of blood that had appeared on her   
arm. She gave him a ferocious glare and turned back to   
the cornbread and beer she was consuming, still holding   
her injured arm. CSM, dismayed by his thoughtless   
accident, left Diana alone as she wished, and cursed   
himself for being so careless. He quietly went about   
his business and let Fowley go about hers.  
  
********************  
  
Half an hour later, the party was still going   
strong, due mostly in part to the large kegs of beer   
that had been brought out. Fowley had befriended the   
man sitting next to her and now was completely ignoring   
any attempts made to talk to her by CSM. She was   
shamelessly flirting with the man, which made CSM even   
more irate; the time he wasn't spending sulking he   
spent trying to get her attention.  
  
"So... Diana..." he began uncomfortably. Fowley   
turned to him and frowned.  
  
"Can't you see I'm entertaining this nice man   
right now?" she said in a slurred manner.  
  
CSM tried again. "Won't you introduce me to your   
friend?"  
  
Fowley turned back to him with another annoyed   
frown, and was about to retort when her new friend spoke up.  
  
"Harold Hobbleford. Pleased to make your   
disguinshed acquaintance, sir." The man reached in   
front of Fowley and offered his hand to CSM, who took   
it hesitatingly.  
  
"I'm a dairy farmer 'round these parts, boy   
this party sure is bigger than any we've had recently!   
You city folk throw big shin-digs like this all the   
time I figure?" Harold asked of Fowley and CSM, all the   
while gazing down at Fowley's prominent bossom as he   
had been before.  
  
"Uh-" CSM saw what he was goggling at and   
cleared his throat. "Diana is my date for tonight, Mr.   
Hobbleford," he said, putting his hand lightly on her   
knee.  
  
These words and his gesture of affection proved   
to be just the wrong course of action. Harold's face   
contorted into a hardly amiable scowl as Fowley quickly   
removed CSM's hand from her knee and drunkenly smacked   
him across the face. Before CSM had time to react,   
Harold stood up and glared down at him.  
  
"You leave this lovely lady alone you filthy old   
sack of shit!"  
  
Fowley had composed herself (as much as possible   
considering her blood alcohol content) and calmed down   
somewhat; she took Harold's hand and pulled him back   
into his chair, then addressed CSM with a look that   
would've killed if given the chance.  
  
"Look. I am your colleague, employee, whatever,   
but I certainly am not your date! I mean, how old are   
you, like 70? You're old and I have no interest in you!   
How could you even think anything like that?"   
She paused and a small smile crept across her face.   
"I'd rather hit the sack with Alex Krycek! Now *there's*   
a real man... of course, Harold here isn't so bad either,   
is he?"  
  
Harold grinned and appeared embarrassed. "Aw   
shucks, Miz Fowley." He paused. "Would you like to   
come over to my place for a bit? It's just down the   
road."  
  
Before CSM had a chance to say anything, Fowley's   
face relaxed into a big grin and she nodded enthusiastically.   
"I'd love to!" she exclaimed. "Um-" she turned to CSM.   
"You wouldn't mind? Wait, why am I asking you? I don't   
need your permission to have fun, do I?" She grabbed   
Harold's arm and stood up. "Let's go."  
  
CSM frowned and stood up. "Wait!"  
  
Fowley turned to him. "What?" she asked   
exasperatedly.  
  
He thought for a few seconds. "Can I come with   
you?"  
  
Fowley's mouth dropped open and she stepped back   
over to CSM; she glared directly into his eyes, then   
smacked him across the face for the second time that   
night. Harold then grabbed CSM's collar and pushed him   
forcefully down into his chair, after which the couple   
turned and stalked out of the barn, leaving CSM very   
shaken up and agitated.  
  
He nonchalantly straightened his tie out and   
ignored the looks he was receiving from the other   
partygoers, sipping his beer like nothing happened. He   
managed somehow to keep his raging emotions concealed   
for a few more minutes while he thought about how best   
to deal with this situation. Much as he wanted Diana   
Fowley, if he couldn't have her no one could, and Harold   
Hobbleford was certainly not worthy enough. After a bit,  
his emotions and thirst for revenge took over his mind   
and he knew what he had to do.  
  
CSM stood up and, nodding courteously to   
everyone, left the barn, heading for his car in the   
front of the house.  
  
"Hi, uh, can I get you anything sir?" Warren   
appeared from the house, heading towards the barn   
lugging another keg of beer.  
  
"No, no, thank you. It's been a lovely party,"   
CSM replied distantly. Warren beamed.  
  
"Glad you found it enjoyable sir! Hey, where's   
your lady friend? She sure was lovely, you're lucky to   
have someone like her," Warren said, then paused.   
"I hope she enjoyed the party as much as you did, sir?   
Cuz-"  
  
"Warren. She left," CSM cut in, glaring at Warren,   
who upon closer examination was slightly drunk, which   
accounted for his free speech with CSM.  
  
"Did she? Aw shucks, did you get in a fight?   
Gee, I-"  
  
CSM reached into his jacket and revealed a sleek   
silver pen-shaped object. "Warren, quiet. Forget you   
knew anything about her."  
  
Warren's face took on a look of panic as he   
stared at the small weapon he was all too familiar with.   
"Yes, sir! I mean, uh, who are you? Never seen you '  
round these parts..." he picked up the keg and wandered   
off in the direction of the barn, too drunk and   
frightened to tangle with CSM anymore.  
  
CSM stared after him for a few seconds, then   
continued on towards the car. Upon arriving, he got   
inside and took out his cell phone; he dialed a number   
and had a short conversation with the other party, then   
put the phone away and started the car. He took one   
look back towards the barn, then turned and drove away,   
leaving it all behind him.  
____________________  
The next day  
From the Washington Post  
____________________  
  
"A woman from the DC area was found dead this   
morning in a small town in Iowa. The cause of death is   
still under investigation; the woman had multiple stab   
wounds to the vital organs and face, but the weapon   
appears to have been a large two-pronged knife of some   
sort, resembling an abnormally large version of the   
small ones used for holding ears of corn, as described   
by an investigator on the scene. The woman was at a   
friends house when it happened, and the man she was   
with is under suspicion for murder. He was also   
injured by the assailant, but managed to survive; he   
is now in the ICU at Des Moines General claiming he was   
abducted by aliens. No leads have turned up yet, but   
investigators are working around the clock to solve   
this bizarre murder."  
  
____________________  
  
  
Please remember everyone, I was hyper and eating corn   
at the time I thought this one up ;)   
MUST HAVE FEEDBACK!!! *G*  



End file.
